bemysaviour
by KillerMay
Summary: nagato x konan au; the first time she saw him was in art class


_bemysaviour_

**one**

the first time she saw him was in art class.

she'd never seen him before, never spoken to him, and she didn't know his name. even so, she new he was different. she could see it in his eyes.

his white eyes with the pupil outlined but not filled in-never filled in. it looked like rings. his eye-the right one being covered by his redredred hair-made her think of space. of the sun, the moon, the stars. things she thought were out of grasp were displayed in his eyes.

as she observed him, she noticed his eyes sweeping over the canvas that lay in front of him. he was a painter.

and that was when she new she had to meet him.

**two**

she silently moved away from the door and toward him. she was one with the wind, invisible to all.

just how she liked it. just what she was used to.

as she got closer, she held her sketchbook tighter. she just wanted to sit down and _sketch_ to her heart's desire.

she was an artist. she was a shadow.

but still, she walked toward him. she was known-as known as you can be, living in the background-for her recklessness. for never listening when she was told something was a bad idea. she walked slowly and tapped him on the shoulder. he glanced up.

"can i sit here?" she asked, motioning toward the seat opposite him. he nodded and she sat. "i'm konan." she introduced.

he looked at her again. this time really looked at her and responded; "i'm nagato."

**three**

they were friends of sorts. they barely spoke and never saw each other outside of art class.

but they were friends. they silently understood each other. what couldn't be said was told through a pencil and a paintbrush.

they got each other. that was what was important.

when she was with him she didn't think about her father walking out or mother being an alcoholic. she didn't think about the drugs. about the addiction.

she thought about the art. she thought about him and her. she thought about the good things in her life.

and she didn't think about yahiko anymore. and somewhere in the depths of her brain, of her heart, she knows that this is what counts the most.

**four**

she had never seen nagato outside of school until the day she went to the club. it was a teen club, but there was still alcohol. still drugs. still everything she needed to survive.

she rarely actually went inside. she went around the building, to the back.

in the back of the club, there was a small gathering of sorts. it was where the real stoners were at. not the people in the club that did it because they thought it was cool. they were the people that did it to forget.

nobody spoke and the only noise that filled the air was the muffled sounds of the club, pencils on paper, and music being played.

the air was foggy and she remember the addiction nagato made her forget.

she promised herself she'd stop, but she had no say about getting it second hand. she would never stop coming here. this was her sanctuary. these were her people.

that was when she saw nagato, once again isolated. he had paper and various paints scattered around him, but was holding a guitar in his lap.

she remembered thinking about how she never new he played.

she remember her subconsious saying she didn't really know anything about him. she knew better than that though. she knew him, she just didn't know what he could do.

she went to sit by him, to start sketching. she remembers itachi's eyes on the back of her head and she walked to him.

she was a loner. nagato was a loner.

they might as well be alone together.

**five**

nagato had been absent one day. and all the memories came flooding back to her. of yahiko.

nagato made her forget. and now he was making her remember too.

she blacked out most of that day.

all she remembers is the sound of pencil on paper.

later, when she looks at what she drew, she realized it was her. and yahiko. and nagato was there too.

she only wished yahiko would get the chance to meet nagato. they would've been good friends.

that she was sure of.

**six**

he's back the next day. konan thanks god nothing happened. she'd lost people before.

with yahiko, nobody told her until she asked.

with her father, he just left in the middle of the night. her mother said he was working. she only realized he was never coming back when her mom started drinking.

with her mother, she watched it happen right before her eyes. she could do nothing to stop it.

but nagato was there. right in front of her. and she realized she wants to sing. and dance. and cry.

she settled for smiling at him. that told him everything he needed to know.

**seven**

she meets him behind the club everyday. people stopped staring. it was natural order by now.

he would paint and then play guitar. she would sketch and occasionally sing along if she knew the lyrics.

it doesn't take her long to realize nagato is the highlight of her day.

whether they were in art class, not talking. occasionally looking at each other. sharing their thoughts through canvases and sketch pads.

or if they were outside that god forsaken club surrounded by people from broken homes.

she was happy being next to him.

**eight**

konan had a gift. she could read people by their eyes and through their actions. she new itachi was from a broken home-one that he, himself, broke-just by looking into his eyes.

she new nagato had seen too many things for his age.

his art spoke of murder. of betrayal. of lies. of things that weren't supposed to happen, but did.

he was the same way.

her art spoke of abuse. of regrets. of deception. of things that weren't supposed to happen, but did.

their art, together, combined, united, spoke of passion. of loyalty. of silent happiness.

it was what they lived for. and it was the one thing that would never be taken away.

**nine**

if there's anything konan remembers clearer than day, it was the kiss.

it was a friday and they had stayed outside the club until everyone else was gone. until they were by themselves.

then they began talking. they had a real conversation. she can't remember what they talked about it. that was unimportant. it brought them closer.

what she does remember was that the street lights were making his redredred hair glow. she knows that they were making her blue hair neon.

she remembers the way he smiled at her. the way she smiled back. it had been years.

she hadn't smiled since yahiko.

she remembers the way he handled his now dry paintings with more care than he handled his guitar.

she remembers the way they began walking, side by side.

she remembers the way their hands brushed against each other.

she remembers when he abruptly stopped and turned to her.

but most of all she remembers his lips on her in what was quite possibly the most perfect moment of her life.

she remembers how that was the last time she saw him.

**ten**

he wasn't at school. he wasn't outside the club.

he was gone.

and once again she had no warning.

**eleven**

itachi, deidara, and sasori looked at her with pity. she didn't look at them at all.

sasori reminded her of his redredred hair.

deidara reminded her of how it fell over his eye, hiding it from the world.

and itachi reminded her of how dead he always seemed to the rest of the world (but not to her. never to her).

she wasn't breaking though.

she was already broken.

**twelve**

he came back four months and eighteen days later.

she was slowly fixed.

**thirteen**

she wanted to know where he'd gone but she never asked.

everything went back to as it was before. they exchanged silent words during art. he played guitar and she'd sing along when she knew the words.

no matter what their expressions said, they were both happier than ever to see each other.

konan knew this and nagato knew this too.

some people called it young love.

but young love never lasted.

**fourteen**

kissing in the rain was cliche, but konan always had a flair for romance novels.

this was her story. not the best, but her definately her favorite.

he paints. she sketches. he strums. she sings. he loves her. she loves him.

nothing could take that away.

* * *

_indeed._


End file.
